Next Great Adventure
by KrisEleven
Summary: Albus was standing when he became aware of himself once again, standing in the middle of a vast white-grey landscape with no shape, no form. That he was dead was no question. He had thought, though, that there would be a certain amount of peace.


A/N My first Harry Potter story! I hope you enjoy it. Thank you, thank you, thank you to Sweet Sassy Sarah and Alliriyan for betaing this for me.

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He was standing when he became aware of himself once again, standing in the middle of a vast white-grey landscape with no shape, no form. For a moment he felt as clean and unburdened as his surroundings. Without anything around him to spark memories, he floated.

And then he noticed, not all at once, that the land was gaining form. Out of the fog, dark shapes appeared and he was reminded of what he had been in life… Of what he had left behind. As he remembered his life, he felt again the fatigue that had become his main companion for so long. The shapes sharpened until he could identify where it was he had found himself.

It looked just like the main square in the village of Godric's Hollow except the mist had never been this thick when he'd lived there, all those years ago. The buildings around the square darkened and sharpened and he could almost see the details in the familiar old houses he had passed so many times. He couldn't see the ground he was standing upon, but he could feel the cobblestones beneath his feet.

His old life, and all that had happened there, was haunting him still, it seemed.

It was strange, standing back in the place which belonged to everything he'd lost: his mother, his dear sister, even Gellert; Albus could admit it because there were no lies here. It was suitable that he would return here in death.

That he was dead was no question— he could remember the moment when Severus had given in to his plea and raised the wand.

He had thought, though, that there would be a certain amount of peace. That the fear and guilt and pain he had been carrying for so, so long would be lifted from his old shoulders when he had given up his ties to the living. But he still felt them all, all the old failings of his character, the guilt he had carried all these years, the love he had felt in his life and the pain he had experienced when losing it, fear that this battle wouldn't end like he so desperately wished for it to. In life, he had thought that death would provide him with relief, finally, from all that had burdened him. Apparently it wasn't to be, not yet, at least.

He examined his surroundings more closely. The fog had cleared slightly, although it still hovered thick over the ground and rose into the air in dense tendrils which prevented Albus from seeing far in any direction, and which blocked the sky from view behind the white-grey screen. He turned his head and noticed a path between the houses which led into a wall of mist that wavered, parting slightly as it moved, while never letting him see what it was that was hidden beyond it.

But, suddenly, Albus felt it in his bones that he could turn and _walk _into that wall of mist, and it would be the easiest thing he had ever done. He could just walk towards the house where his mother had died and his brother had grown to hate him and where he had fallen for Gellert and where he'd lost _everything_…

Because once he got there, he would be able to see them again. He would be able to hold dear Adri and apologize for her death, for his neglect. He would be able to tell his mother that he had never meant to betray her memory…

He had taken his first, tentative steps towards the path before he realized that he couldn't leave this place, not yet. Because Godric's Hollow belonged to Harry, too. Harry who was so brave and who was left in the middle of the impossible, painful mission he had been born to. Albus knew what the dear boy was going through and he knew that if all turned out as it should, Harry would be here.

And Albus had to be waiting. He couldn't leave behind, without a word, the one who had somehow become his salvation.

He turned his back on the tempting path. As he walked back into the village's square, the mist parted around him as if it were a part of his cloak. He sat on the lip of a small fountain and dipped his now-undamaged hand into the cool water, closing his eyes as he smiled.

There were apologies to be made to the waiting dead, those he longed to see again, but for now he would wait. Wait for Harry. Not to give him advice, not this time, because he knew that Harry had by now outgrown him. But the living needed explanations. Harry had lived his entire life in the midst of secrets and Albus wasn't willing to leave him with any questions that he could instead have answered.

Albus opened his eyes and looked towards the path leading away into the fog.

That adventure could wait.

He wondered idly what this place would look like to Harry, when he arrived.

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End file.
